


Feline Friendly

by DHS



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: As in Derek adopts kittens, Failwolf Friday, Kittens, M/M, also stiles is 100 percent done with dereks shit, stiles knows how to care for kittens of course, the idea killed me too, theres nothing stiles doesnt know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 13:11:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DHS/pseuds/DHS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If pressed, Derek would blame everything on Stiles. It was his fault, after all, that Derek had felt harassed enough to do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feline Friendly

**Author's Note:**

> This was written months ago for Failwolf Friday. Since I'm new to ao3, I figured this would be a good one to post to test the system out.

If pressed, Derek would blame everything on Stiles. It was his fault, after all, that Derek had felt harassed enough to do it. 

Stiles was always making those damn dog jokes. Derek couldn't so much as pass a stray cat in town without Stiles sending him a sly look. In fact, he was incredibly lucky if a look was all he’d gotten. Stiles had once tried to encourage him to chase a cat down an alley - which Derek hadn't, because he was a dignified alpha werewolf, for fuck's sake. 

It was supposed to be a bitten thumb to Stiles. Or just a way to make Stiles shut up about it. He’d gone to Deaton’s with the goal of adopting an older cat that needed a good home. So how in the hell had he ended up with two kittens that weren't even old enough to eat on their own?

He stood in the middle of his apartment’s small kitchen with the kittens cradled in one arm and his phone held to his ear with the other. “Stiles, get over here,” he snapped, as soon as the call connected. 

“Hi Derek. Long time no chat. How’s life? I’m doing great. College is great. Glad you asked,” the boy deadpanned. Derek could hear the taptaptap of a keyboard faintly in the background.

“I saw you last night, I know you’re fine. Get over here.” He snapped the phone shut and pressed the edge of it to his forehead, trying not to stress. They were kittens. He could take care of kittens. 

***

When Stiles walked in twenty minutes later - literally just let himself through the door, and Derek couldn’t remember giving him a key - things were… hectic. 

Derek hadn’t made it out of the kitchen. The moment he’d set the kittens down they’d begun circling like sharks, mewling and yowling so loud that his sensitive ears rang. They weren’t big enough to do much more than stumble around him and cry, but he had no idea what to do with them. 

“Those are kittens,” Stiles observed.

“Astute.”

“You have kittens,” he elaborated. “Like, you have kittens in your house dude. Whose kittens are they?” 

“They’re my kittens.”

“Dude, kittens! Did you adopt them so you could eat them or something? That’s so wrong, man. I don’t want to see you eat kittens!”

Derek pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily. He was positive that if he weren’t a werewolf, he’d have headaches daily. “I’m not going to eat them, Stiles! I adopted them as pets.”

Stiles’s arms flailed in front of him, his mouth working around words he couldn’t seem to get out. Finally he settled on, “ _Werewolf!_ ”

“A werewolf can have cats, Stiles! That was the point! To prove to you that I could live with a cat!”

“Dude, that is so unfair to the kittens. What if they don’t want to live with _you_?”

All the while the kittens continued to yowl, now directing their attentions to Stiles. Obviously if Derek wasn’t providing, they’d find the next available source. “Can you just make them stop?” Derek finally asked, shoulders slumping. 

Stiles seemed to take pity, as he dropped to the floor and crossed his legs to scoop the kittens into his lap. He examined them both carefully, even forcing their mouths open gently to look at their teeth. When he was satisfied, he cradled them in his hoodie. “They’re not weaned, yet. Too young. Did you get formula for them?”

Derek shrugged, pulling out the container Deaton had given him. He was sure there’d been instructions along with the exchange, but the entire event had been like walking into walmart. You just black out and then you’re left on the other side of the experience without any idea what had happened or how you’d bought all the shit you did. 

“Did you get bottles?”

“No?”

“Derek!”

“What!”

Stiles’s arms flailed out again and the kittens wailed in protest. “You need bottles to bottle feed a kitten, Derek. You need supplies. Jesus!”

“I thought he’d given me everything!”

Stiles groaned and unfolded himself from the floor, stalking out of the kitchen and towards the door. 

“Where are you taking my kittens?”

“To the store, Derek, to get them supplies so you don’t kill them!” Stiles yelled, stomping out of the flat. Derek had little choice but to follow him.

***

Stiles didn’t take him to the store.

Stiles took him to hell. 

“Why would we need that?”

Stiles didn’t even have the respect to look at him as he answered, he just turned the bottle around to look at the directions and compare them to the bottle he’d held up previously. “You have to clean their ears sometimes.” 

“They’re cats, they clean themselves.” There was already a ton of stuff in the cart, from food and litter to so many toys Derek couldn’t name them all. It was going to cost a small fortune. He hadn’t thought this through at all. 

“They’re kittens that can’t even feed themselves, Derek. You have to take care of them.”

Derek groaned and glared at the offending furballs. They’d curled up together in the bed that Stiles had put in the cart, and he refused to admit that they were anything near cute. They were menaces, and he’d had them for less than two hours. 

Stiles picked up two black collars - Derek was relieved that Stiles wasn’t even going to try to fight him on colors anymore - and lead them to a massive machine near the registers. “They need tags. What are you naming them?”

“Cat and kitten,” he deadpanned.

Stiles huffed angrily and stabbed at the machine with his fingers and entered some cash. It buzzed and whirred, and two tags popped out. Derek snatched them up and then immediately handed them back.

“I’m not naming them Sam and Dean.”

“They’re brothers! They need good brother names!”

“I’m not naming them after incestuous hunters.”

“They’re not incestuous!”

Derek growled and pushed Stiles out of the way, inserting his own money and jabbing at the machine angrily. The result was two small round tags, engraved with their new names and Derek’s address.

“Really. Fili and Kili. I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re a Rings fanboy,” Stiles sniffed turning up his nose as Derek fitted the tags on the collars. “Seriously, you’re a big fat dork, why do you even try to be cool.”

“Says the kid who wanted to Wincest my cats,” Derek droned, screwing up his nose unhappily.

“They’re not incestuous you asshole!”

The payment process passed in irritated, bristly silence. Derek did, indeed, spend a small fortune. But the collars looked good on the kittens - he’d given the ginger one the Fili tag and the brown one the Kili tag, Stiles had at least seemed pleased with that - and he at least felt a little more prepared now that he had everything he could possibly need to care for a cat. 

When Stiles dropped into the Camaro’s passenger seat with the kittens in his lap, Derek turned to him. 

“Look, thanks. For coming over, and for helping,” he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I wouldn’t just leave kittens to die by your hands,” Stiles snorted. He looked surprised, like he genuinely didn’t think Derek would appreciate the help. He smiled, though, the first smile since he’d walked through the door to discover the kittens, so Derek figured that he’d done something right. 

***

“No.”

“You have to!”

“No.”

“He can’t do it himself!”

“I’m not rubbing his ass, Stiles.”

“Would you prefer to do it the natural way and lick it?”

“Stiles!”

“Just take the fucking towel and do it, Derek! I’m not coming over every time you feed the kittens to help you with this!”

Derek snarled, but he snatched up the towel and Fili, and gently rubbed the kitten like Stiles had shown him. It was gross. And undignified. And dumb.

So dumb.

He stroked a finger along the kitten’s cheek, and he turned his head and began to mouth and Derek’s thumb. “I just fed you,” he murmured, smiling a bit. “You can’t be hungry again.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles breathed, voice squeaky. Derek glanced up and Stiles was red-faced, and he was smiling so hard his eyes were slits. “You talk to animals, that’s so cute.”

Derek felt his face heat up and glanced back down at the bundle of fur in his hands, now suckling steadily on his thumb. “You’re supposed to talk to them,” he said softly, embarassed. “It’s good for them.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles squeaked again. Derek was about to look up, to snap “what,” but he was caught off guard as Stiles launched forward and pressed their lips together. It was soft and chaste, and gone before Derek knew how to react. “I’m sorry,” Stiles said quickly. “I’m really sorry, I just needed to kiss you for being so cute. Don’t kill me.”

Derek set down Fili, taking time to be careful and deliberate, and then he reached out to wrap a hand around Stiles’ neck. For a second he looked scared, but he quickly got with the program as Derek pulled him forward. Their lips met in a deeper kiss, Derek swiping his tongue along Stiles’s lips to gain more access. It was hot and wet and perfect, tasting sweet and of that pure Stiles taste Derek knew would be there. 

They pulled away panting, with Derek rubbing small soothing circles in hair at Stiles’s nape. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“I’m going to need you to adopt kittens more often,” Stiles laughed breathlessly.


End file.
